Larry finds himself behind closed doors in Mayfair, where a new cognac built on decades — not marketing — makes a rather convincing case for patience…
There’s a certain kind of Mayfair dinner that manages to be both terribly grand and faintly ridiculous – usually in the best possible way. Heavy doors, low lighting, something modern and expensive on the walls (Hockney, in this case), and chairs that look as though they’ve seen more deals than dinners. It was in one such private room – equal parts Parisian salon and sanctuary – that L’Epoque Baroque XO made its entrance.
Which is slightly amusing, because for something making its debut, in many ways it has been around for rather a long time.
L’Epoque is the work of Yohann Pinol – formerly a Louis XIII ambassador (yes, the one with ‘the spiky bottle’), now a Rhône winemaker, and someone who evidently knows his way around a grape – who has turned his attention to building a cognac from the ground up. Not buying, branding, and bottling, but actually assembling something of substance. The raw materials, all Grande Champagne eaux-de-vie, and all from a single estate, some of which have been quietly minding their own business for quite some time.
It’s a collaborative effort too, with Tatiana Kharchylava – of Birley Clubs fame – overseeing the design. The bottle, bespoke, sculptured and elegant, with Baroque touches that reflect its legacy, looks like it belongs on the table before you’ve even poured a drop. Always a good start.
The evening itself is less launch, more investigation. Rather cleverly, we’re walked through four of the component eaux-de-vie that make up the final blend, each paired with a dish designed to coax something specific from the glass. It’s part tasting, part parlour trick — and it works.
We begin with bresaola and parmesan – proper parmesan, chipped not cut – and there’s something quite pleasing about starting here: age meeting age, both unapologetically themselves.
“All of these are XO,” Yohann tells us, “requiring a minimum ten years, all Grande Champagne…” The first two are the ‘youngest’, though even that feels like a stretch – lighter, more floral, with a lift of jasmine and soft fruit. The latter two head into deeper water: older, richer, with that slow, lingering finish that makes you pause mid-sentence.
The interesting bit is how it all came together. A year spent blending and re-blending, entirely blind – no labels, no ages disclosed, just taste and instinct. The only rules: everything had to be from the single estate, nothing under ten years old. When they finally landed on the blend, they discovered the youngest component was actually twenty. Which rather sets the tone.
We’re encouraged to sip with a bit of ceremony. “Start with a drop,” Yohann says, “then the second sip will open it up.” Slightly theatrical, perhaps – but annoyingly accurate. The flavours do unfurl, properly. And the parmesan, which you might assume would bulldoze everything in its path, instead pulls something brighter from the cognac – a faint pineapple note that ties the two together in a way that feels almost engineered.
The older eaux-de-vie – 30 years plus, we’re told – are where things get properly interesting. Deeper, broader, more assured. Paired with the bresaola, now arriving almost tartare-like, they feel grounded, as though both are speaking the same language.
For the next course, Yohann brings out the XO itself, encouraging us to revisit the aromas, from what we’ve already learned. I hold the glass to my chest. “On the nose, the aromas of the youngest eau-de-vie come through first,” he says, looking almost mystical as he inhales, ”very fruity, mango and pear, with hints of ginger, white pepper and the jasmine. It’s very complex.”
Then comes the revelation. “The oldest eau-de-vie is half a century old. Fifty years.” There’s a gasp from the room. “These aromas come behind the first floral notes,” I bring the glass closer to my nose, and the depth is revealed. They’ve used just enough to give it character, to compliment the end product, while not letting the spirit escape its prime.
Then, on the menu, another revelation. L’Epoque Baroque XO – with Umai caviar. On paper, it sounds like showing off; in practice, it’s probably the best pairing of the evening. The salt, the texture, the way the cognac seems to stretch around it. I’m convinced. Although if we’re being honest, ahem, the real winner is dessert: a pineapple tarte tatin, the fruit properly caramelised, with L’Epoque XO worked into the sauce and a generous glass alongside. Not subtle, not restrained, but absolutely the right call.
It may be dismissive to say, but it’s one of those spirits that seems to get on with just about everything – cheese, caviar, even a drop into an oyster if you’re feeling adventurous. There’s enough going on in the blend to keep things interesting without ever feeling overworked. Think symphony, rather than soloist.
And, purists, look away now. You can, of course, put it in a cocktail. An ‘Epoque’ martini makes an appearance – rinsed with pineau des Charentes, finished with a cognac-soaked raisin (“a raisin d’être”, someone quips). There’s also a Vieux Carré involving Brothers Bond rye and some rather serious Bénédictine. All very good, I’m sure, but it does feel a bit like putting a silk tie on a Labrador. Perfectly possible, if slightly unnecessary.
As the evening goes on, the room loosens up. The initial posturing gives way to something more enjoyable: a shared appreciation, a bit of gentle one-upmanship over tasting notes, the usual Mayfair dance. Meanwhile, something quietly insistent is happening in the glass – and it’s hard to look away. A finale pairing with Laderac chocolate now just feels like showing off, but we’re in absolute heaven.
So, L’Epoque Baroque XO is very good. Not in an attention-seeking way, but in the manner of something that has waited long enough to be certain of itself. Production is, for now, limited – around 2,000 bottles, with a bit more resting quietly in barrel for future releases. Not vanishingly rare, but not something you’ll trip over either. And it already has an award, a master medal at the 2024 Spirits Masters, to its name – impressively, before it’s even launched – which feels about right for a cognac that’s been patient this long.
Fifty years in the making. And worth the wait.
In the UK, L’Époque Baroque XO is available through Hackston’s and Selfridges & Co, with a recommended retail price of £360. It is poured at leading private members’ clubs, restaurants, and bars, including Fat Duck, The Waterside Inn, The Cocochine, Pied à Terre, and The Connaught Bar.
In Monaco, the Cognac is available through Gaia – Les Chais Monégasque, with on-trade presence at established addresses including Rampoldi and Le Bar Américain at Hôtel de Paris Monte-Carlo.
For more information, please visit maison-lepoque.com.
